When I Fall In Love
by NittanyLizard
Summary: Ponyboy is beginning his second year of college when he stumbles across someone through his work study program whose life might change because they met again.
1. Surprise Meeting

**Author's Note: **I'm not sure where this one came from, but those are the ones I like best – just pops into your head, and you go from there. So that's what happened several weeks ago, and here's the first chapter. Hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: S.E. Hinton owns The Outsiders, I'm just having fun and making no money off of this.

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**Chapter 1 Surprise Meeting**

**Ponyboy's POV**

As I stepped out into the bright sunlight for my trek across campus I found myself wishing I could just go to a movie. Man, those were the days. Go to school, go home, do whatever you wanted until dinnertime…of course, there was always the concern over getting mugged by the rich kids, but other than that I hadn't realized how easy life had been for me.

Ever since I'd started college last year, there was no time for anything but work – classes, papers to write, homework to finish, work study to help pay for school, and tutoring on top of it all because even the scholarship and the work study program weren't quite enough to cover the whole tuition plus books. Now I know what Darry feels like. Well, almost. At least I'm moving forward relatively quickly, where he's been at the same job for six years with just a couple of promotions. No wonder he never went to movies. Work all the time, and you start to lose focus on the things that actually give you pleasure.

I glanced down at my paper again to make sure I was headed for the right building. Last year I worked at the café in the student center twenty hours a week, first washing dishes, then doing some of the cooking by the end of second semester. It wasn't bad, but I'm not sure I'll ever feel the same again about making a sandwich. When you do it fifty times a day you just want to go home and eat pretzels out of the bag. This year they had me working in one of the administrative offices, the one that deals with registration. I don't really care what I do, as long as it pays the bills.

"Curtis!"

I turned around. "Hey, Jerome." One of my buddies from last year came jogging toward me. He flashed me a bright white smile. We had several of the same classes last year; he wants to be a journalist. Already he's having problems, though – he joined the school newspaper last year and has been getting the smallest assignments they can dig up, and it's not because he's the new guy. It's because he's black.

"Did you come looking for me to wave those grades in my face again?" I quipped.

"Now, Ponyboy, you don't hold grudges, do you? A little friendly competition never hurt nobody's motivation."

I smiled. Jerome is probably the smartest guy I've ever met, and I don't just mean book smart. He knows everything that's going on in the world at all times – political, financial, and current events. Not only that, but he understands most of it. "I guess I can give you a run for your money this year. Didn't want to be a showoff last year."

Jerome slapped me on the back when he got up to me and looked down from his towering six-foot four position above me. I wasn't small any more, but at five-nine I wasn't exactly a giant next to him. "Yeah, you keep thinkin' that, little guy. Believe whatever you need to help you get by." He laughed again, a deep hearty laugh. "So where you going in such a hurry, boy? Got a big date?"

I shook my head. "Work study. They got me workin' in an office this year."

"Well, maybe you'll be having that big date by the end of the week, all them ladies working in the offices."

"Yeah, that's just what I want – one of those pleasant ladies from registration asking me to go to her knitting club with her." Jerome and I had both had to stand in the registration lines last year when classes were either too full or cancelled, trying to re-schedule ourselves. Let's just say some of the women on the other side of the counter were rather firm when it came to having the right signatures in the proper places by the correct professors, and they weren't above letting you know that you were an idiot and a waste of time if you had it wrong.

"Well, looks like you get off here," Jerome observed as we approached the steps of the registration building. I ascended the stairs. "Good luck, man. You're gonna need it!" he called up after me. I glared down at Jerome, and could still hear his laughter as I stepped into the building and the door closed behind me.

My footsteps echoed in the empty hall as I made my way to the stairs and up to room 205. I entered the room and closed the door behind me. The woman behind the counter glanced up at me. "We don't open until tomorrow. Come back then with your schedule, add or drop slips signed by the…"

"I'm not here for registration," I explained. "I'm here for work study."

She didn't respond at first, just finished up what she was typing. "Very well then," she finally acknowledged. "I'm not sure why they sent us a man this year, but as long as you can keep up with the work it won't be a problem."

I was a little irked at her suggestion that I was inferior based on my gender alone, and that I wouldn't be able to 'keep up' with the work as well as…well, as well as she could.

The woman hefted her large frame out of the chair and headed toward the doorway behind her without a word. Just before walking through the door she turned back to look at me. "Are you coming?" she asked in a bored tone, indicating the part of the counter that lifted to allow someone to get to the other side. I lifted the counter and followed her. "My name is Maude Baxter. You can call me Mrs. Baxter. And you name is?"

"Ponyboy Curtis," I told her, wondering if I should tell her she could call me Mr. Curtis. Apparently I didn't need to.

"Well, Mr. Curtis," she said, "you will be working in the file room with Miss Wilcox. We are reorganizing the filing system in order to have all student information placed on the mainframe by next year. Right in here…" Mrs. Baxter led me into a room full of filing cabinets, files, boxes, and papers; the table set up in the middle of the room was piled so high I almost didn't see the woman on the other side. "Miss Wilcox, your work study student is here." She turned to me. "I'll leave you here now." She looked me up and down for a moment, gave a disgusted little sigh, and went back toward the front desk.

"Oh, good," came a voice from behind all the stacked files. The first thing I felt when she stood up was a sense of relief that someone who didn't look much older than me would be training me. My second thought was of Jerome's comment about getting a date; she was cute, at least at first glance, wearing a stylish short dress with green and orange stripes and a matching headband keeping her shortish blonde hair out of her face. She looked up at me, extending her hand as she crossed the room. She froze just before she got to me, arm still extended, and did something like a double-take, mouth half open with whatever she had planned to say.

"Hi," I said uncertainly, reaching out to shake her hand.

"Ponyboy?" she breathed.

It took me a minute of staring at her for it to click, but once I could picture her hair a little longer, a different type of clothes, and there were those blue eyes… "Sandy?"

She smiled. "Wow. Yeah. I'm sorry, come all the way in."

I can only describe it as an awkward moment. You don't really expect to ever run into your brother's ex-girlfriend who's supposed to be living hundreds of miles away, much less find out that you're working for her for the year. I stepped away from the doorway and further into the room.

"Gosh," Sandy said, shoving a box out of the way with her foot and leading me to the table. "This is odd, huh?"

"Yeah," I agreed. I had always thought I would be able to glare at her if I ever saw her again, and maybe make a point of implying how cruel she had been to my brother. But she was being so nice, I had to keep reminding myself what she had done. Soda was long over it by now, but I had seen firsthand the pain she had caused, and it still bugged me. I guess when something bad happens to someone you love it can be harder to get over than when it happens to you.

"So, uh…you're in college! That's great, Ponyboy. Soda always said you should have a chance to…" She stopped mid-sentence, apparently having made herself even more uncomfortable. "Are you…what are you majoring in?"

"Well, I'm still undecided, but I'm leaning toward English."

"Wow, that's great." She gave me a genuine smile, and I had to work to tone down the one I returned.

It seemed like I should say something, rather than just answering her questions. "So…when did you come back from Florida?" As soon as I said it I wished I hadn't. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife. But Sandy forged onward, determined to make this all seem normal and not at all awkward.

"Well, I stayed down there for four years. In the evenings I worked at a restaurant near my grandparents' place, waiting tables, and took some classes at a local business school during the day. I got my Associate's degree, and decided to come back home when I found out about the job here last year."

So there it was, the last five years of Sandy's life summarized in thirty seconds. She had only left out one detail, and I wasn't sure _if_, much less _how_, I should ask her about it. I guess she knew what I was thinking, though.

"I lost the baby," she explained. "I was almost seven months along, and developed an infection. I had her too early. She lived for a few days, but…" Sandy got a far-away look for an instant, and I was glad I hadn't brought it up. As bitter as I had felt about her all those years, I felt bad that she had lost the baby. I had always pictured her married to someone else, staying at home taking care of her little brat…this just wasn't what I had expected. She was unmarried. She had a degree. She was working for a living. And her baby had died. I wondered if the father knew.

"I'm sorry," I told her sincerely.

"Yeah, well…" Sandy gave me one of those smiles that you come up with when there isn't really something to smile about, but you want the person you're talking about to not feel bad. "It was a long time ago." She sighed and re-stacked some of the papers on the table, clearly trying to come up with the words to her next question, which I had known all along was coming at some point. "So, um…how's your brother? How's Soda?" She almost couldn't say his name, and I wondered at how she could leave him so easily and on such bad terms, yet still seem emotional about him five years later.

"He's good," I said, trying not to smile before I made my next comment. This is better than telling people my name for the first time. "He's a cop."

Sandy looked up at me with a blank expression, like I had just told her a joke and she didn't get the punch line. "No, really…what's he doing these days?"

I grinned at her. "I'm not kidding. He's a cop – uniform, badge, gun, the whole works."

She smiled and shook her head. "A cop? Soda? It's just so…"

"Ironic?" I suggested. "Yeah, I know, it seemed so at first. He's good, though, and there aren't too many kids on our side of town who give him a hard time. He goes easy on them for the little stuff, and he's real good at talking people down at the domestic dispute calls. Soda got some programs started for kids, too, to keep them off the streets and doing productive things. They love him." I was proud of my brother, and not ashamed to let people know it.

"That's great. But…don't you need a high school diploma to go to the police academy?"

"He got it," I said. "Went at nights for his GED."

"Huh. What brought on that kind of career choice?"

I imagined Sandy was still picturing Soda in his greasy DX shirt, getting away with anything illegal that he could, as long as it was fun. I looked out the window. "Steve got shot."

Sandy's face fell. "What? Oh, no…"

"It's okay, he's alright. But things were getting bad. It was over something stupid. Steve was just looking to just fight the guy, but he pulled out a gun and shot him, point blank. Soda was with him. Steve almost died." I nearly shuddered, remembering all the blood on my brother's clothes, and his hardening expression as we sat in the hospital waiting to hear how Steve was doing. "That was when Soda decided he needed to be able to do more than just pound on people in street fights. The guy that shot Steve was high on heroine, pot, you name it. But he got off on a technicality."

Sandy shook her head. "Well, good for Soda. I feel safer knowing he's out there protecting me." Her face turned bright red as soon as she'd said it, and she quickly started picking through one of the boxes on the table. "Well, we'd better get started on all this. God knows it'll take most of the year to sort out!"

>>>>

By the end of the day we hadn't made a dent in all the work, but things were a lot less awkward. In fact, I had almost forgotten I was even working with someone who, for five years, I'd thought I hated.

"Looks like that's it for the day. You'll be in for the afternoon tomorrow?"

I held Sandy's sweater as she slid her arms in. "Yeah, from one until five."

"Good. Well, say…" I waited for her to say, 'say hi to Soda', which I honestly wasn't sure I could agree to, but she caught herself and continued, "I mean, I'll see you tomorrow. It's good seeing you, Ponyboy."

"Yeah, you too. See you tomorrow." We went out the front door together, and she went off to the employee parking lot while I headed back across campus to get the bus home. I still hadn't decided whether or not I should tell Soda I was working with her. But how could I not? I hadn't just bumped into her. I would be working with her all year.

**Sandy's POV**

It was almost a relief to get away from Ponyboy after six hours. Not that I hadn't enjoyed talking to him, and he was as sweet as ever, as much as he probably hated me. He and Soda were always so close. But he looked so much like Sodapop it almost hurt, and I had to keep stopping myself from staring at him, looking for the similarities and picturing Soda in my mind.

Suddenly the sound of quick footsteps behind me set my heart racing, and I quickened my own pace in an action of controlled panic. I could see my car, but it seemed so far away. I glanced around, but nobody was nearby.

"Miss!" I cringed at the male voice and almost ran.

"Hey! Miss!" Against my better judgment, I turned around. A young man was hurrying toward me; most girls would have seen a nice looking guy, a prospect, a potential mate. I saw the enemy, and I hated that that was the way it was. He waved something in the air. "You dropped this."

I breathed a sigh of relief, but kept my guard up. "Thank you," I said, taking the paper from him that had slipped out of my notebook.

"Sure. Have a nice day." He turned around and walked back the way he had come. I continued on to my car, unlocked it with shaking hands, slid into the driver's side, pulled the door closed behind me, lost my internal battle, and broke down crying.

Will I ever be normal again?


	2. The Mixer

**Author's Note: **Thanks to all who reviewed, the individual thanks are at the bottom of the page. Hope you enjoy chapter 2, and have a great weekend!

**Disclaimer: **S.E. Hinton owns The Outsiders.

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**Ponyboy's POV**

I tapped my pen on the dining room table and read the paragraph again. It was getting late, and I was reading the same things over and over with no forward progress. When I get to that point I grab a notebook and start writing things down, taking notes from the book; doesn't keep me going for too much longer, but every little bit counts when there are only twenty-four hours in a day. I pulled my notebook over and summarized the first paragraph in one sentence before moving on to the next. I was halfway through the chapter when the front door creaked open.

"Hi Soda," I said, not taking my eyes off the book.

"Hey. You're up late."

"Mmm…"

"Did Janice call?" Soda poured himself a glass of milk and came into the dining room to sit across from me.

"Yeah. I told her you were working late tonight. She said she'll talk to you tomorrow. Did you catch any bad guys?"

Soda laughed. "Yeah. Mr. D and D."

I looked up. "Who?"

"This old geezer, gets hauled in at least once a week for being drunk and disorderly. Sleeps it off in a cell overnight, probably the best sleep he gets all week. The guys figure that's why he causes problems."

"What does he do?"

Soda shrugged. "Nothing serious. Makes noise, throws things at walls, follows some of the well-dressed crowd when they leave the theatre. He never hurts anybody, just makes people nervous." Soda finished off his milk. "Is Darry home?"

"Yeah, he went to bed already." I stared down at my book and took a breath. "Soda, I need to tell you something."

"What's wrong?" He sounded concerned.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong. I started my work study program today. They have me working in one of the offices, the registration office."

"Oh yeah? How's that going?"

"It's okay. The thing is, the woman I'm working for…it's Sandy."

It took Soda an instant to make the connection. "You mean, Sandy? From here?"

"Yeah." I watched my brother, not sure what his reaction would be.

"Huh. So how did she look?" Other than surprise and interest, I didn't see any signs of anger or bitterness in Soda's eyes.

"She looked good. Her hair is shorter now."

"When did she come back?"

"Last year. She got an Associate's degree while she was in Florida. She…she lost the baby. It was born too early."

"Wow, that's too bad," he said, shaking his head. "Must have been hard for her, what with being away from home, and not having the father around. At least, I assume the father wasn't around."

"I don't know, I didn't ask. She's not married now, though."

"Well, tell her I said hi when you see her again." Soda stood up and picked his glass off the table.

"So is that it? It really doesn't bother you anymore?" I looked up at my brother as he walked by.

He looked down at me and grinned. "No, it don't bother me anymore. It was a long time ago, Pony. We were kids. People change. Maybe we loved each other back then, or at least we thought we did, but it's been over for a long time. Like I said, tell her I said hi." He patted me on the shoulder, put his glass into the sink, and headed off to his bedroom.

I glanced down at my notebook. The words went in and out of focus a few times. "Guess it's bedtime now," I muttered to myself, and stacked the books and papers in the middle of the table before going off to bed.

>>>>

"Ponyboy, can you hand me Ron?"

I looked down at Sandy from the stack of papers I was sorting through. "Ron?"

She looked up at me from her spot on the floor. "Ron. The rubber band ball."

"Rubber band ball? You named a rubber band ball 'Ron'?"

She grinned and pointed to the table beside me, where I found a three-inch diameter ball made up solely of rubber bands. I picked it up and tossed it over, making sure it bounced once between me and her. "For a ball made out of rubber, it sure doesn't bounce too good," I observed.

"Hey, watch what you say about Ron. You might end up on Penny's bad side."

I raised my eyebrows. "Penny? Do I want to know?"

"Penny, the paper-clip chain," Sandy elaborated. "She's sitting right on the edge of the table." Sandy lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "And she doesn't look happy. I think she's got a thing for Ron."

I stared at the young woman across the room from me. "You need help. Really. Have you considered getting a pet?"

"Oh, but I have a pet! I've got a cat." Peeling off a layer of Ron's very being, Sandy turned back to the folders she was binding together.

"I don't suppose you actually gave your cat a name?"

"Oh, sure, she has a name. It's MC. Stands for 'My Cat'."

I smiled. We'd been working together for a little over a month, and it was anything but what I had expected. When Soda was dating Sandy, when I was fourteen, I really only came in contact with her when they stopped by the house on their way to something, or if we all went to a football game together. Mostly I didn't go along, though, with the way Steve acted. Anyway, I had always just seen a quiet, friendly, reserved girl. Working with her, though, I'd found that she was smart and funny, with a quick sense of humor and a relaxed way of looking at things.

"You know, they're having a thing over at the student center tomorrow night," I said. "Some kind of mixer. If you feel like going, a few of my buddies and I are heading over."

I noticed Sandy got a little tense. "I'm not sure. I mean, it's for students, isn't it?"

"Yeah. So, you're a student, aren't you? You're taking a class, I think that qualifies you in case you're worried about being chased away by security for crashing the party."

She laughed. "Yeah, I guess I am a student. How are you getting there?"

"Darry gets off early tomorrow, so I'm taking the truck. I can give you a ride if you need it."

That seemed to relax her a little. Slowly, she nodded. "Sure. Okay, sure, I'll go. Will there be food?"

"The all-important question, right? I think so. The flyer didn't say what they would have, other than refreshments."

"Hmmm…I'll eat something before I go anyway, just in case. Can you pick me up at seven?"

I nodded and tossed over a pen. "Seven sounds good. I'm picking up another friend at ten-of, so don't worry if I'm a few minutes late. He's not real punctual. Just write down the directions."

Ten minutes later Sandy had sketched out an intricate map that a blind man could have followed. In the spot where she had put her apartment she'd drawn a little cartoon cat. I shook my head, smiling. "You're nuts. Did Soda ever catch on to that?"

She smiled back. "Are you kidding? Compared to him, I was a wallflower. I guess that isn't such a bad description of me back then, though."

The thunder outside rumbled, and we sat for the next hour working as the rain beat heavily against the window.

>>>>

**Sandy's POV**

I checked my hair and makeup in the bathroom one last time before going back out to the living room to sit and wait. I hate waiting to be picked up. I'm one of those people who is ready at least ten minutes ahead of time because I hate making others late, but it means I usually have to sit around waiting. And waiting means boredom. And boredom means thinking.

I picked up my _Woman's Day_ magazine and flipped through the pages halfheartedly. Hmm, didn't know you could make something like that with yarn…But would anyone really wear it?

I glanced up at the clock – four minutes after seven. I was glad I'd eaten already; I get a headache if it's been too long since I've eaten. Someone once told me it has something to do with low blood sugar.

Lost in my thoughts about yarn vests and blood sugar, I almost jumped off the sofa a few minutes later when there was a knock on the door. Poor MC wasn't expecting it, either; she shot off the couch and halfway across the room, looking back at the door like she expected a wolf to come charging through.

I went over to the door and opened it after checking through the peephole that it was Ponyboy. "Hi, Pony. Just give me a minute to get my sweater on."

"Sure, go ahead. I left the truck down near the entrance with the engine running. Is that alright?"

"That'll be fine, it's only for a few minutes. A lot of people park there to unload their groceries. Okay, I'm ready."

We stepped into the hallway, I locked the door behind me, and Ponyboy followed me to the staircase. When we got to the truck, which I was surprised was still working, but figured Steve was at least partially to thank for that, I slid in on the passenger side next to a large black man.

"Sandy, this is Jerome," Ponyboy introduced. "Jerome, this is my friend Sandy."

Jerome smiled and held out his hand to me, which I shook. "Nice to meet you, Sandy," he said. "You're the one who puts up with this guy all day long?"

"Thanks, man," Pony commented as he pulled away.

Smiling, I went along with Jerome's joke. "Well, really it's only twenty hours a week, so I can't complain."

Ponyboy glanced over and smiled at us. "Ganging up, eh? Just remember where your ride home is coming from, you two."

The parking lot for the student center was around the back of the building. The common room was already filled with students wearing name tags, eating cheese and crackers off of little plates and balancing cups of soda while they milled around talking.

"Jerome!" someone called before we had even finished getting our nametags. I looked up to see three students coming toward us – a boy and two girls. "Hey, Pony, haven't seen you in a while!" the boy said, grinning at Ponyboy. "We had a class together a couple of hours ago," he explained to the rest of us.

Ponyboy stepped forward. "Everyone, this is my friend Sandy. Sandy, this is Meg, Vicky, and Brian. We all met last year – Vicky in work study, and Brian and Meg in classes."

"Hi, nice to meet you all," I said, shaking their hands. They all seemed nice enough, and my fears about the evening dissolved as we chatted and munched on finger foods.

"Sandy, would you like some more punch?" Brian asked after we'd been talking for almost two hours.

"Yes, thank you."

He smiled at me as I handed him my used plate and cup, the kind of smile where you make eye contact and hold it for a little too long, and something inside of me tightened up. For the rest of the evening I had trouble interacting with Brian, despite the fact that we had been talking comfortably for so long. I had seen the interest, and hated that I didn't know what to do with it. Ten-o'clock couldn't come fast enough.

"Ready to go?" Pony asked me.

"Yes, I'm ready."

"I'll get your sweater," he offered, disappearing before I could reply.

Brian stepped over as everyone moved toward the entryway to find their coats and sweaters. "Hey, um, Sandy. It was really nice talking to you."

"Yes, it was nice talking to you, too," I agreed, glancing desperately toward the doorway for Ponyboy.

"If you're interested, there's a dance over at the rec center next weekend. I mean, if you'd like to go with…"

"Oh, I'm busy next weekend," I quickly lied.

"Oh. Well, okay. Maybe some other time, then."

"Sure, maybe some other time." He knew as well as I did that I wasn't busy next weekend, I could see it in his face. He was confused at my reaction, I knew, but I couldn't explain it to him. I really liked him, too. He was friendly and polite and funny, one of the nicest guys I had met in a long time next to Ponyboy. He was studying to be a lawyer. His father was a lawyer. He lived in an apartment, but usually ate dinner with his parents and two younger sisters. His older brother was in law school already. He was perfect, and I really liked him. But I was far from perfect, and I wasn't sure I could get past my flaws quickly enough for him to see me as someone worth getting serious with. Even _I_ didn't know if I was someone worth getting serious with.

Pony dropped Jerome off first. We sat in the truck for a minute after getting back to my building. "You know, Brian likes you," he ventured.

"I know," I admitted.

"So what's wrong? Maybe it isn't my place to say anything, but I thought you were being kind of rude to him after a while. I mean, if you don't like the guy…"

"No, no, it isn't that. I just…I'm not sure I'm ready to have a serious relationship with anyone right now."

"Serious?" Ponyboy wasn't looking at me, but I could hear the confusion in his voice. "He just wanted to take you to a dance, Sandy. He's a nice guy." He glanced over at me, getting annoyed. "If it's Soda you're thinking about, I think it's time to move on. He's already in a serious…"

"Ponyboy!" I snapped. "I do not want to go back to your brother! I used to love him, but I have moved on with my life, so don't you dare make comments about something you do not understand!"

He looked back to the steering wheel, and even in the dim light from the building I could see that he was turning red. "I'm sorry. You're right, it's none of my business." He glanced over at me, ashamed of his outburst, and I felt bad that I had snapped at him. "It's just, I see you at work every day, and you don't seem to have any friends. You don't go anywhere. You don't do anything. I thought, maybe if you met some people…" He ran his hand around the steering wheel.

"I know. I'm sorry I got upset. You're right. You're right, and I did have a good time tonight. It's been a long time since I went out and had a good time. Not since Florida. Since I've been back, it has mostly been work, school, and…well, and nothing else. Just a couple of volunteer things." I reached over and put my hand on Pony's arm. "Look, I thought Brian was really nice. I just…I can't right now. Can you tell him for me that it wasn't him? I don't want him to think he did anything wrong."

Pony looked over at me again. "Sure, I'll tell him. You'll probably see him again, if you want to come out with us any more, so I'll tell him. He's a good guy. He won't bug you if you're not interested."

I gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Ponyboy. I appreciate it. And thanks again for inviting me along tonight. Your friends are real nice. I'd like to go out with you all again, if it's okay."

He smiled back. "Sure it's okay. I'll see you on Monday afternoon."

"Yep, Monday. Back to the grindstone." I climbed out of the truck and went through the door, hearing the familiar vroom as the old Ford pickup pulled away.

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To my reviewers: 

Tsuppi: Hi, glad you thought it was interesting! No, I didn't do a connection to Ten Years Later on this one. Thanks for the review, hope you enjoyed.

krista: Thanks, glad you enjoyed!

Lynn: I'm sorry, but I have to disagree with you there. I find the worst line ever to be, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner." Hehe. Anyway, yes, I was serious with that line. As the author, I know the past, present, and future of this story, so it was completely unsappy from my point of view. Now, if I were to go off in the direction you may be thinking I was going with this, then I could see it being a pretty dumb line. But in all seriousness, it was a completely valid thing for Sandy to be wondering about herself. Thanks for taking time to read and review!

Locket the Lookout: Glad you enjoyed. Good luck on your story!

Incumix1: Thanks for the review and the pointers. I actually haven't read any of the Sandy stories, so I don't know what people do with her. I'm basing my idea on nothing other than things that I've learned and indirectly experienced in my own life. There was practically an empty slate left about her in the book, so this is one possibility that I could see out of many. As far as the age of my readers, it makes no difference to me, as I don't change my writing style or content based on who I think will be interested. I write when I have an idea that I want to share. Anyone who doesn't like it will tell me, I'm sure, regardless how old they are!

Fairlane: Thanks, I'm glad you're enjoying. I actually wasn't sure about the Soda being a cop thing at first either, but after I thought about it for a while it seemed to fit pretty well (at least as I interpret him – good with people, likes action, people like him, etc.). Some of the kids I graduated high school with are doing some things that I would never have believed, including one who is a State Trooper. Plus, I was tired of picturing Soda as an auto mechanic, especially since I've used that one before, and really it is specifically Steve who is supposed to be the automotive genius. And the dress – yeah, all that orange, green, yellow, etc. It's the 70's alright! Thanks for the review!

virgil-t-stone: Glad you kept reading and weren't disappointed. Hope you enjoyed chapter 2!

Amber: Thanks, I'm glad you liked it!

lillya: Well, as I told another reviewer, I haven't read any of the Sandy stories, so I don't really know what anyone else has done with her. As far as any of it being cliché, again, I'm just writing a story in the style that I normally use. I tend to not enjoy sappy or cliché, so hopefully those don't inadvertently end up in this one. I have a great deal of respect for the book, the author, and women in general, especially those who moved forward in spite of adversity. In fact, this is probably the story of mine that pans out as most true-to-life in the end. If you read any more, hope you enjoy, and thanks for the review and the input!

NeonProdigy: Thanks for taking the time to read and review, even though you won't be reading any more. I appreciate it! Your perception of Soda being a cop is interesting; I could see it going that way, with people going against him, but what I was able to picture more clearly was a lot of his friends and acquaintances realizing that they now had a friend on the "inside". Rather than seeing him as a traitor, I think they would have seen him as the ball in their court, so to speak. Some of the most well-loved and accepted cops are the ones from "the neighborhood" (speaking from personal experience). As far as Sandy, I had nothing more than a passing interest in her (as in, I read the part about her in the book and passed by without much thought), but for some reason I started thinking more about her a while back. Not much to go by in the book, which opens a lot of possibilities. Again, thanks for the review!

kimmerkay: Thanks, I'm so glad you enjoyed! This will probably be a shorter story, but I've got it completely planned out, hence the quick update. Hope you liked chapter 2!

Hahukum Konn: Thanks! That's so funny, the old IBM. Somehow it didn't seem to make anything happen any faster…I've got this set in the fall of 1971, assuming that the book happened in about September 1966 when Ponyboy was a freshman, and he graduated high school in 1970. Thanks for the review, I'm glad you enjoyed!

Mrs. Soda Curtis: Thanks, glad you enjoyed!

volleyballlover: Thanks, I'm glad you read and enjoyed! Hope you liked chapter 2, though the next update won't happen quite as fast (I've got another Ten Years Later chapter half done and waiting for me!).

Ale Curtis-Carter: Thanks, I'm so glad you liked it!


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